Dark Days Will Become Better
by Burritoyum
Summary: Katniss and Primrose Everdeen are left with their father after their mother dies. Her father hates her and blames her for her mother's death... "I know that it shouldn't hurt anymore. He's said so many things to me, hurt me so many times. I've never shown weakness, but his words cut deeper than any knife he's used. Now, only that magnificent blue eyed boy can give me hope again."
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Hunger Games, the almighty Suzanne Collins does...**

**Note: **Although this is an AU Fanfic, I'm determined to keep the characters as close to their _Hunger Games_ personalities... With a few small exceptions. If this bothers you, I apologize, but it will benefit the story in the future. Trust me! I hope you enjoy the story, and with that said.. Here is what I _hope_ to be a favorite of you all!

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_**Chapter**__**One**_

I awake with a start, breathing heavily from the remains of my most recent night terror. Sweat plasters stray hairs to the back of my neck, and I try to recall what this particular nightmare was about. It was a memory of one of the beatings I received last night from _him_.

_He was drunk again, rambling on about how useless I was. "Why can't you do anything right? I go out and work my ass off so that you and your sister have food on the table, and what do you do? You arrive home_ ten minutes late_! You can't expect me to do EVERYTHING," he stops, noticing for the first time that I have my game bag around my shoulder, and that I haven't shown him its contents yet. This earns me a slap on the cheek. Upon seeing that I had only managed to shoot two squirrels, he goes berserk. He goes over to the broom in the corner of the kitchen and brings it down onto the right side of my face with a sickening cracking sound. Not willing to give him any more satisfaction than he already gets, I stifle a scream and will the tears not to come, putting a emotionless mask onto my face to stop my fear and hatred show. This, or course, angers him more, and he brings it down once again, but with the handle stabbing into my stomach. This is the blow that causes a pained groan to escape my lips without my permission, and I double over holding my now aching abdomen. Satisfied with my pain, he grabs my braid forcefully to bring me to almost eye level with him, almost lifting me into the air. A surprised yelp passes my lips and a single tear slips out of my eye, causing me to mentally curse myself for showing emotion. Noticing that he is trying to find fear in my eyes, I quickly steel my gaze to keep it from seeping through. _

_"You stubborn _slut_. You're nothing, never will be anything. Ever. This is your fault, you know. Everything is your fault. If you hadn't forgotten your lunch that one day, your mother would be alive. She- she would be ashamed of you. I know that she approves of my hatred of you, who wouldn't? She'd be alive right now if you'd just thought about it!" he tells me. This gets to me, though. Everything else he has ever said to me, done to me, I could take it with little more than a few tears on my cheeks. But this is different. He's __**never**__ brought my mother up before, and it's not like I've never thought about her death like that, but hearing him come to the same conclusion crushes me, because it must be true if I'm not the only one who's blamed myself for it. I suppose it just makes it seem so much more real. If I had remembered my lunch that day, then she would have never tried to drive home for it. It was on her way back that the mine sirens started going off. My father made it out before almost everybody, having been closest to the entrance, but my mother hadn't known that. In passing, she panicked, thinking her beloved husband was still trapped in those dark mines. She raced in, unknowing to the fact that he was standing outside explaining the problem to the peacekeepers. It was when she had gone in that he'd caught sight of her beautiful blonde hair whipping behind her as she called his name. By the time he had neared the entrance, screaming her name, that the mines collapsed completely, taking the life of my loving mother. If I had just _remembered_ to look over my shoulder when going out the door, if I had-_

"Katniss?" A voice draws me away from my dark thoughts.

Looking at my side, I see my little sister, Prim, looking at me with tears filling her bright blue eyes. She knows about my constant nightmares that plague my sleep, thanks to my thrashing about. My sweet, innocent Prim. I know that she has nightmares as well, from time to time, and I know all too well that I am their main subjects.

"Prim? Are you alright?" I ask with concern evident in my voice. Prim's pain will always be enough- more than enough- to bring me to my knees with pain.

"Yeah, I woke up, and I suppose I just had to make sure that you're okay.." she croaks out wiping tears from her normally lively eyes. I instantly understand what she means and hug her. While stroking her blonde hair mussed from sleep, I whisper reassuring words to calm her, and once I'm sure she's back asleep, I lay back and stare at our ceiling and start thinking. I'm aware of what she means by her words. Another one of her nightmares has come back to haunt her tonight. I'm also aware that they are always about me getting beaten or killed by father, and the twisted truth is that the beatings _do_ happen. To me, anyways; though I prefer that much more than Prim getting hurt- that would be unbearable.

Looking outside, I see that it's still dark out. Seeing that I won't be able to get more than three hours of sleep tonight, I slip out of bed as quietly as I can so as not to disturb father or Prim. I quietly get dressed and slip out the door with the silent footsteps of a huntress, and tread over to the fence and pause, waiting signs of electricity going through it. Pleased with the results, I slip underneath its weak area and into the woods, feeling at ease for once. Retrieving my bow and arrows out of their log, I think to myself that maybe, just maybe, today I'll be able to bring something satisfactory to my twisted father's standards.

* * *

I arrive back at our small Seam house in time to get ready before school. Although I've been feeling rather dizzy this morning, I'm quite proud of my haul today, for once. I brought back with me three rabbits, two squirrels, and a wild turkey. My stomach churns painfully at the thought of food. I may actually be able to trade some of my meat at the Hob later on, to get Prim a new dress for school. The thought of Prim's sweet face lit up with happiness and surprise spur me onwards. Prim has blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes, qualities that most certainly do not fit in to Seam crowds. This is a trait she received from my mother, as she was from the Town before marrying my father. I, on the other hand, fall into the Seam characteristics with my grey eyes and raven black hair, which I acquired from my father. This is also the reason I think he beats me. Prim reminds him too much of my mother, practically being a miniature Lily Everdeen, and he could never hurt his love. This is more than okay with me, because if Prim was beaten as well, I would have already broken a long time ago. Prim is so loving and cheerful all the time, and makes friends with anybody she meets, being her adorable twelve year old self. I, on the other hand, am the opposite. I am quiet, but stubborn. Making friends used to come easily to me, but the burdens of life have worn my former soft exterior into a rigid, guarded wall. With my looks, I remind him of himself, which I suspect he hates because of the fact that he wasn't able to save my mother in time.

My father used to be a very nice man, always positive and loving. When he sang, even the birds would stop to listen to his beautiful voice. It was his luxurious voice that won my mother over. But after my mother's death, his loving personality turned sour, and his beautiful voice washed away with years of alcohol and replaced with a hateful growl that was always used only towards me. I used to think that this was what love did to you. That it broke somebody irreversibly. Now love is the only thing I can hold onto; loving Prim is the only thing that keeps me living. I realize that this is not the same type of love, that loving your sister is not the same as the way a husband loves his wife, but I cannot think to have hope for anything else. This broken, sick, depressing piece of who was once my father is just that: a piece of him. Before my mother died when I was eleven, love was what had made him a wonderful man. He was the father every kid would be envious of not having, and we couldn't be glad enough of receiving. He was the man that caught the heart unknowingly of so many women. The man that got along with everybody, even snobby townies who stuck their noses up at the rest of the Seam residents.

Snapping out of my reverie, I start to cut and clean my kills before he gets over his hangover and ignore the painful twists my stomach is making due to my hunger. About halfway through, I have to stop for a minute so that I can actually focus on the knife so that I don't accidentally cut myself with it. A wave of exasperation washes over me and I sway a little, but start to cut and clean the meat again.

When I'm done with cleaning my game, I start getting ready for school slowly, a headache starting to come in. My clothes are clean, but not exactly what girls at school would call _stylish_. I only own one dress, and it was my mother's favorite blue velvet dress, one of her possessions from before she moved to the Seam from Town. I look in, and settle for a shirt that I've had to patch up more than once. Once done dressing myself, I pick out Prim's outfit for school, picking out a pretty, light pink dress for her to dress in once she wakes up. While I may not have much money, whatever money I do get, I spend every penny of it for Prim. I want her to live a comfortable life at school and at home as much as she can. I have been known to fight with more than one bully that makes fun of her, so they now know not to mess with Katniss Everdeen's little sister.

I wobble over to the corner of our small room, looking into the broken mirror that stands in it, I see my face for the first time since last night and silence a gasp about to come out. Now that it's actually light outside, I can see how bad of condition I am. Prim wakes upon hearing my startled gasp, and sees my face for the first time this morning, and gasps. Holding both hands to her face, she slides her legs over the edge of the bed, and I can see tears streaming down her face. I know she feels bad, because she wants to protect me from this happening. She _wants_ to, but I know it will never happen. We love each other to no extent, but I also know that she still sees our father as the man he was before, because of his still loving personality towards Prim. It's just me that he hates. I don't mind it terribly that she won't stand up for me, because it would most likely result in more beatings or possibly him getting angry at her. I'm in a way happy that she still has him, even if he is drunk or hungover most of the time.

"Katniss... When was the last time you've eaten?" she asks, her voice strained.

"I'm- I'm fine, Prim. I don't really remember right now, but I know it couldn't have been too long ago. I'll be- I'll be fine. Plus you know dad doesn't give me much food, so it wouldn't matter anyways. I'll be fine, and no matter what, you're still getting part of my lunch. So noth... nothing to worry about." I try to reassure her, but my words are slurring slightly because of my dizziness. To be honest, I know exactly how long it's been since I've had even a portion of a healthy meal- which was maybe a little over a weak ago. I'm still able to walk, though, and I've been eating small portions other than last night. _The slurring is just from my bruised cheek, _I tell myself. Possibly a small concussion, but nothing too serious.

"Katniss," Prim whines quietly, "you're slurring your words. You may have a concussion, by your condition, I wouldn't be surprised. Please just stay home today?" she asks with eyes showing desperation. She knows that I can't say no to those eyes, but when it comes down to going to school or staying in this hell hole, I'd chose school any day.

"Prim, you kn..know why I won't do that. A whole day _alone_ with dad? I don't very much like that idea. I'm going to school," I say with the conviction in my voice so as not to leave room for further argument. I even managed to control the slurring to a minimum.

"But Katniss-"

"But nothing, Prim. I'm sorry, but I'm fine." I try to convince her by keeping my voice even.

She just sighs and consents. "Fine, but Kat, I'm really worried..." she says with a frown.

"Don't worry little duck," I say trying to lighten the mood,"I've outsmarted a bear before. I can outsmart a teacher and... and be fine!"

She smiles and grabs her supplies, and with that I'm walking next to her to school. I stumble more than once, and she shoots me concerned looks, but ventures on.

* * *

The first portion of school goes without too much trouble. I get worried looks as I approach the school, so I just duck my head as I pass people with curious and pitiful faces. I was only called on once or twice in my classes, and managed to get out a tired-sounding response with only a few stumbling of words. The hallways mind as well have been labyrinths, with hurdles and turns that I stumbled through multiple times, each time causing more and more people to notice the bruised, clumsy girl stumbling throughout the hallway like a drunkard. Great.

At lunch, I sit with Madge, my only friend in my grade. When Madge sees my face and my stumbling body, she looks horrified, but quickly changes it to a look of uttermost concern.

"Katniss! What's happened to you?" she screeches, and runs her hand over my face. She takes in my swollen eye, blue and green cheek, and most likely the multiple scratches covering it. The scratches that came from the broom when it gave out after multiple hits and showered splinters across it.

"I.. um.. hit.. hit it when I was.. was.." for God's sake, I couldn't even form a proper sentence because of my searing headache and dizziness.

"Katniss, you need to go to the nurse, or at least go home!" She exclaims, pure shock crossing her face.

"No... no.. I'm fi..fine, Madgie." I giggle tiredly. Did I just giggle? I must be pretty tired.

Concern suddenly flashes on her face with ferocity. She must have realized that I _never_ giggle. I stand up shakily and attempt to grab my things. I drop my schoolbag once, then twice, and look around to make sure nobody caught it. Grazing over the crowd, I conclude that nobody's taken notice to me, but catch a pair of blue magnificent eyes watching me with concern. What was his name? My head feels foggy right now. After a minute, my brains slowly registers the owner of those unforgettable eyes. _Peeta Mellark_.

Dropping my gaze, my cheeks heating, I attempt to pick it up once more and succeed, the weight throwing my weak body off a bit, and I fall on my back. Blackness starts to cloud my vision, but before I close my eyes, I see someone jump out of their seat and rush to me. I hear a man's voice call my name, and for a second, foolishly think to myself that _it sounds nice coming from whoever's voice that was._ Just as I close my eyes, surrendering to the wonderful feeling darkness, my eyes lock onto a pair of blue eyes. Those unforgettable, magnificent, indescribable blue eyes, once again.


	2. Avoidance and Broken Spirits

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own the Hunger Games, the almighty Suzanne Collins does...**

**Note:** Sorry for the late update! Hopefully you liked the last chapter and this one as well! Here you go! Oh, and let's say... maybe 5 total reviews for a new chapter... TOMORROW?

~Burritoyum

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**Chapter Two**: _Avoidance_

In my time spent in unconsciousness, I quickly realized two things; how much pain I had been in before I blacked out, and that the relief from the pain is in no way able to make up for the terror of the nightmares. Unconsciousness results in an inability to wake up from them, and that causes the level of horridness to increase. While some are memories from some of the worst beatings I had received, most were about Prim being beaten. I was even being beaten besides her in a few, but most of them I was not able to move, and had to stand watching our cruel father abusing her. I would shiver if I would awake.

Soon, though, the nightmares thankfully come to an end as I slowly near consciousness. The numbing of my limbs that had been part of the effects was quickly wearing off, resulting in pain in just about every part of my body. I remember coming to and from groaning in pain, but never being able to open my eyes. This was no different, as I let out a pain filled groan. I wait for the darkness to claim me again, for the pain to go away, but it doesn't. I inwardly sigh in relief and annoyance. While I'm glad to be awake (well, sort of awake), the pain is almost unbearable.

I attempt opening my eyes, which does not work even to the smallest amount. Panic runs through me and I make a desperate attempt to clench my fists or curl my toes, only managing to move my pinky. That's a good sign, isn't it? Now somewhat convinced I haven't been paralyzed, I decide to analyze my environment with the only things useful; my touch, hearing, and the scent.

Well, first thing's first. I feel like shit. If I could, I would scoff at my thought, half amused and half pained. Saying that I feel like shit wouldn't even cover it. My head is throbbing, as is my stomach and back. But now is not the time for wallowing in my pain. I focus on what is around me. Underneath me, I feel something soft and downy. My guess is that I'm on a mattress. Wait, a mattress? So that means I'm in a room. By the smell of it, it isn't mine and Prim's. Our room, like the rest of our house, reeks of alcohol and dried vomit. This room smells like... dill and cinnamon? I try to put two and two together, but my head is still throbbing with a mind-splitting headache. Dismissing the observation, I can feel that this mattress is very soft, as if I were laying on a cloud. Haha, definitely not our mattress. Our mattress is hardly what I would define as even being stiff. Springs jut out on my side in the occasional area, and on Prim's I've stuffed a pillow the size of half of the bed with feathers I collect from turkeys and birds when I'm able to sneak out before dawn. It makes it more comfortable for her, and hopefully brings her better sleep than it does for me, even if she occasionally suffers from nightmares. I want her to have the childhood I had lost so long ago..

I once again attempt to move my fingers, with more successful results this time. After accomplishing this, I hear a set of loud footsteps come towards me, I feel the spot on the bed next to me dip down, and then feel a large, warm hand cover mine.

"Katniss?" I hear a deep voice say. It sounds familiar... My thought from before I blacked out comes to mind. My name sounds so beautiful when he says it. I startle internally at this thought. I haven't even met this person, it's unreasonable to feel this way already. Yet I can't deny the jolt of electricity I felt when his hand covered mine. I'm not sure why, but my stomach flutters at the thought of his name. Peeta.

"Katniss, I'm not entirely sure if you can hear me, but I'm sorry. I'm also not sure what happened, but if it was a merchant, you can tell me..." he sighs. "There's probably not any point in doing this. I probably look like an idiot. If my brothers saw me.." he says, pulling his hand away, and I feel the spot besides me raise, signaling that he's stood up. He starts to walk away. I don't want that though, I feel the need for someone to be near. For some reason, his presence is calming. Leaving myself to my own thoughts has never been a good thing for me. It leaves me remembering my abuse and the words that I'm often called. Desperate, I gather what I can and make a pleading noise in my throat. I hear his footsteps pause, and I assume he's surprised either because I can hear him or because I don't want him to leave. His footsteps begin again in a hurried pace, but are getting closer rather than farther. Peeta's large hand comes to mine again and I hear his voice say my name, and I'm not sure I'll ever get tired of it. I don't think I'll ever get tired of his voice.

"Katniss? Can you hear me?" he asks, suddenly joyful. I reply with an approving grunt. "Is.. is it okay that I hold your hand? I figured you wouldn't want to feel alone," he rushes out cautiously. I squeeze his hand encouragingly.

"I can stay if you want. I can talk enough for the both of us, or I can stay quiet. I could read a story or something if you'd like? Just tell me what you want and I'm on it," he tells me. I snort at him, trying to get my point across that I can't necessarily speak at the moment.

"Oh, Gods, sorry Katniss. I forgot. I-I guess you can just squeeze your hand once for me to talk, twice for a story, and thrice for me to shut up. At this point, I really wouldn't blame you for three squeezes though.." he says, and I can imagine the blush that spreads across his face. I squeeze his hand once, and he understands.

After a good amount of his talking, I find myself thoroughly amused. As my mind catches up with the rest of my body, I suddenly feel worried. Prim! How could I forget about her? Surely it's been a long time if Peeta's not at school! Peeta seems to sense my growing panic, because he asks, "What's wrong, Katniss? I know you're worried about something, what is it?"

I grow frustrated, because all I want is to open my own fucking eyes and mouth. I need to know if Prim's okay. Determination runs through my veins, and my eyes flutter open and I find myself lost in the blue orbs that are staring meaningfully into my eyes. Surprise and joy spread over his facial features, most likely at my eyes being able to open. Though, to be honest, I had expected one of them to remain closed due to what was earlier a swollen cheek. He must see the confusion on my face and starts to explain.

"We put some ice on your cheek earlier, along with the rest of your face," he explains, and a mixture of rage, worry, sadness, and another emotion I couldn't decipher flash in his eyes. "Katniss..." he starts off timidly, then clears his throat and says more determined than anything else,"Katniss, what happened? I want to know so badly. Who would do something like this to you? It isn't your dad, is it? I hope not, but I only ever see the bruises on you, never Prim." My heart starts to accelerate when he makes the assumption. I put on an impassive expression so as not to give anything away. This doesn't, however, calm my apprehension of his knowing of my father's abuse. Only Madge knows of mine and Prim's situation, and while I trust that Peeta's nice, I still don't know him very well.

"Of course," he continues,"if it was a merchant kid, I can take care of that. My brothers and I could give them what they deserve..." he stops, and gets a thoughtful look on his face. Then, looks at me and asks, "Would you want a glass of water? It might help your throat so you could talk."

I nods vigorously, growing more and more anxious. Where's Prim? Father will be surreal when we get home! The sun is already sinking, which means it is well past the time we normally arrive home at. Will he hurt Prim in his alcohol-induced stupor? When Peeta returns with my glass of water, I put my impassive expression on, but this only concerns him more. He hands me the glass of water and I greedily gulp it down, relishing in the way the cold water soothes and burns my dry throat at once. In one toss of my head, I've finished the glass and wipe my mouth with my sleeve. This was a mistake, as the sleeve rides up, showing off my latest bruises and cuts and scars.

"Katniss!" He exclaims, grabbing my arm and examining it. I know he wants to ask what happened, but also saw how uncomfortable I was on the subject. "I know you won't tell me what happened, you're too stubborn for that," he says, and I scowl at him. He chuckles a bit and my scowl deepens.

"Is there anything you will tell me?" He asks hopefully. I clear my throat before attempting speech. I take a deep breathe and, in a hoarse voice that is not mine, say, "Prim? Is she okay? Where is she? Is she hurt, what happened after I passed out? What if she-" I stop when I hear a deep chuckle pass through him. I turn and scowl at him, slightly confused as to why he would find this so amusing.

"Sorry, Katniss, it's just that- you're the only person I know who's first manageable words would be about anything but yourself after you'd blacked out from pain," he says, looking at me with adoration. A slight smile crosses my face before I can hold it back, and his widens.

"Anyways, to answer your question, Prim is downstairs, safe," he says, and I feel just a bit lighter. Alleviation takes over my facial expression and I turn on my side to face him, and ask if I can see her. He gives a quick nod and he gets up to retrieve her. I feel a sense of absence the second he's removed himself from his spot next to me. Shaking my head, I collect my thoughts, and start to think again.

I fearfully wonder what's going to happen when we get home. My eyes widen. What time is it?! Snapping my head towards the window, all good feelings are replaced with dread. All hopes of a happy ending to the day are stepped on. Oh no. The sun is setting, which means that it's been hours since we were due home. Dad will be furious, furious enough to snap on Prim. I squeeze my eyes closed and vow to do everything to prevent that from happening. She will not be hurt. I won't allow it.

When Prim opens the door, I begin to ease, but not by much. She spots me, and her grief-filled face splits into a giddy grin. Love rushes through me and I shout, "Little duck!"

Her smile is contagious and as soon as the words leave my mouth, she runs into my open arms and squeals, "Kitty Kat!" My face is in danger of cracking in half with the smile that's found its way to it. I notice Peeta standing in the doorway for the first time, looking at us with a huge grin and dancing eyes. Eyes that are, once again, filled with emotion I'm not able to comprehend.

He catches my eye and looks at the ground blushing. I'll admit that his face looks adorable with embarrassment painted across his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Focussing my attention once again, I pull away and hold her at arms-length, inspecting her with suspicious gazes. "Are you alright, Prim? Nothing happened, right? Peeta told me you were safe, but did anything happen at school? You didn't get pushed-" I start babbling, and she shuts me off with a giggle and "I'm fine, Katniss. Really. You're the one I'm worried about, though."

"What? Of course I'm fine. I'll just walk it off, like always. This isn't even a serious thing, I just... Didn't get enough sleep last night." I tell her, hoping she'll buy it. She doesn't.

"Katniss, I know you better than anyone. You're not fine. You fell unconscious. Do you know how 'serious' that is?" she asks forcefully, and for a second I'm taken back. With my growing anxiousness, though, I'm not able to dwell on how surprised I've become because of her tone.

"Prim. I really think we should be getting home, don't you?" I ask her, trying to give her a hint. She tilts her head to the side, confused. Inwardly sighing, I attempt again at giving her my hint, not wanting Peeta to catch on.

"I mean, I just that... dad... would be worried about us, don't you? We were due home hours ago judging on how dark it's getting," I say, widening my eyes subtly, trying to get her to understand that I mean something entirely different.

Her eyes fill with understanding, and then fear. "I don't know, Katniss... That may not be a good idea... with how you are right now, of course," she says, adding the last part quickly. I know that she means that we should give Father some time to cool down, but I'm positive that staying longer will only get him angrier. "Prim, we both know Father would only get even more worried every second we don't arrive home," I try to make her see my reason. I chance a glance at Peeta, and see his face wears a worried expression upon it.

"Katniss, Prim could just run home really quick and tell him about what happened," Peeta pleads. My heart contracts as I find out that Peeta Mellark is another person I can't say no to very easily. I try to grasp for a reasonable-sounding lie, and say with as much conviction as I can muster, "No, I don't want Prim walking home alone at this time of the day. You know how people can get around the district. We're going now," I say, sitting up quickly. I find that this was not a good idea, as I almost pass out again from the pain that fills my head. It could best be described as the way my father's old hunting knife feels as it pierces my arm, but instead the pain is focussed in my head. It takes all of my strength not to sway, and I clench my fists in the blankets under me in attempt to steady myself subtly. This, of course, is not lost on Peeta.

"Katniss, you shouldn't even be sitting up yet, much less walking all the way back to your house." he says, but I shake my head stubbornly. Another pain-filled mistake. I wince slightly as I my vision focusses back in. I grab Prim's hand and stand, wobbling a bit at the feeling of blood rushing back through my body. "I'm sorry, Peeta. Thank you so much for doing this, but we should be going. Once again, thank you. Our father will be worried sick about us, though. Goodbye, see you at school tomorrow!" I say and nearly sprint down his steps and through his side door. Once outside, I put Prim on my back and start to run as fast as I can with my recent injuries. I try to ignore the pain, but every step and even breath is like a punch to my gut. We get onto the porch, and lower Prim back to the ground, and step in front of her. As I reach forwards to grasp the doorknob, it goes flying backwards with such force that it slams against the wall beside it, and shakes our small house.

He glares at me, his once-grey eyes filled with rage. I was so wrong, he's past being surreal. Prim's in danger this time.

"WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU TWO BEEN?!" he roars. Grabbing mine and Prim's shirts, he shoves us through the door. We land beside each other on the ground, and he slams the door shut. Prim whimpers, and I remember that she's never been on the receiving end of his wrath. I also remember that I vowed to myself that I'd never let him harm her. He strides up to me and grabs my braid, making me yelp, as it's still sensitive from last night's beating. Cursing myself for showing pain, I look straight into his eyes.

"You been sleeping around, Katniss?" he asks and makes a clucking noise that feigns disappointment. "I thought you knew better. If you're going to sleep around, at least go with it with Cray. You know, since he and I are buddies, he'd be willing to pay for a slut like you." he tells me. His words don't hurt anymore though, at least that's what I like to tell myself.

"Dad! Stop it!" Prim shouts at him, and I'm surprised by her outburst. It is apparent that he is as well, but it is short-lived as he lets go of my braid and goes to her, backing her against the wall.

"What? Were you with her? Helping her with a client of hers? Primmy, I thought you were better than your disappointment of a sister." he tells her, and I catch a tear roll from the corner of her eye. Rage runs through me, along with determination. I'm willing to- and probably am going- to receive his worst, as long as it means that Prim won't have to split it with me. I walk up to him and slap him with all that I can at the moment. His face turns to a snarl, showing off his yellowed teeth, but he doesn't release his hold on Prim. Gathering up as much saliva as I can, I spit onto his face, hoping that it will do the trick. And it does. He lets Prim go, and while he goes to wipe his face off quickly, I whisper to her, "Go to our room, hide in the closet, cover your ears, but do not come back for me until you're positive dad has left the house or gone to sleep. Go, now." She begins to argue, but tears start to fill my eyes as my mind thinks of a battered and bruised Prim. I give her a pleading look through my tearful eyes, and she gives in, her own eyes filling with tears. If there's one thing she knows, it's that I don't cry. At least not outside of my terror-filled dreams. She scurries off to our room and quietly shuts the door. Wiping my tears, I attempt to pull a confident look into my face, but fail as I start to think of what my actions may have just gotten me into. Knowing that I saved Prim from it convinces me further that it was worth it, but does nothing to ease my fear of my drunk father.

He walks into the room with a red, splotchy face. I look into his black eyes, and see that they are both raged and calm. It's this that scares me the most. It is the sign of insanity, is the look of insanity. As he raises a bottle in his hand, I briefly think of how grateful I am that I told Prim to cover her ears so that she does not have to hear the screams that I'm certain will rip from my throat as this unrecognizable man standing before me tortures me with anything he can find, short of himself. As he beats me with his hands, I try to assure myself that I will not break, that I will not give in to the darkness that I partially want to take over my aching limbs. I try to keep my composure, telling myself that I will not let my pain become voiced... But as the third bottle he uses breaks from the impact of itself against my bruised and cut body, I start to lose hope and will. He takes out his leather belt, the one that I made for him when I was nine, and flips my body so that my back is facing him and my face is pressed against the ground. Ripping the back of my shirt open to expose my flesh, he raises the belt high in the air and brings it down upon my back with an unbearable force. This goes on for what is actually only around twenty minutes, but seems like an eternity. I feel warm liquid fun down my back, and realize that it is my own blood. It is not until he finds his old hunting knife that I begin to silently beg for unconsciousness to bring me into its depths. The screams and pain-filled groans that leave my lips do not sound like they are from me. They leave my throat raw. I've bitten down on my lip so hard that I can taste the familiar taste of blood.

His haunting laughter is not the laugh of my father, but of a madman. I hold onto consciousness as he carves into my arms and stomach. He tells me how much he wants to show me how much pain he went through when my mother died. When he brings the knife to my face, I worry even more. He cuts a curved gash from my chin to my temple, and finally leaves me to my pain, apparently finished with his work. He stays, though, and watches me groan in pain as I bleed constantly from my wounds with a blank look on his face. Deciding that my pain is satisfactory, he grabs some money and leaves. Most likely to the bar. The second he closes the door, Prim bursts out of our room with tear stains on her face. Damnit, I thought I told her not to listen, but I can't seem to find the strength to feel anything but guilt at the thought that she heard my pain. When she finally finds me, tears flow out of her eyes faster, and she sobs heart-wrenching sobs. This is what breaks me, and my face, already wet from blood and tears, turns up into a half-hearted smile, which is about all I can manage with a slight wince. I try to talk evenly, but my voice is weak and hoarse from screaming. "Are you okay, little duck? I'm fine, just need to walk it off..." I try to say confidently, but my voice wavers from the pain. Her sobbing gets louder, and she asks me something in between sobs, but I don't really hear anything except for a slight ringing noise. I tell her this, and she inspects me before flying to her shoes and coat, telling me something that, once again, I'm not able to catch.

Before I finally succumb to the numbing and darkness of unconsciousness, I weakly say to her an "I love you."

**~Prim~**

It's been hours since Katniss' screams started. I know that she told me not to listen, but I'd already tried blocking them out; it was no use. I could still hear them. In all the years that my father's beat her, she's barely ever let out more than a yelp. I'm smarter than she thinks I am, though, and I know that she holds them back so that he won't get as such satisfaction from hurting her. I also know that she never makes a noise unless the pain is extraordinarily bad. I've heard the sickening sound of what I'm almost positive is leather against skin. Whatever love I once had for my father is erased. The only reason I hadn't started hating him years ago was because I really did think that he would get better. He was always so kind towards me, and I thought that maybe someday he would treat Katniss like he does me. That hope has been squashed, as I'm forced to hear her like this.

Hearing Katniss, my big sister who is so strong and brave, who is so stubborn but always selfless, scream... It's unexplainable. Heartbreaking. Every pained groan is like a punch in the stomach, every scream is blood-curdling and haunting. Each is like a stab to the heart, and it pains me so much just to know that she's taking this torture for me, just because she doesn't want me to endure any of it. I know these are noises that will haunt my heart for years to come. I want desperately to be strong, if only for my selfless sister, but am not able to stop the tears that pour down my cheeks.

I stop crying long enough to listen, noticing screams have stopped, and have been replaced with pained groans. I get anxious as I mentally beg for my father to leave her be. After what seems like hours, I hear the front door slam, and I dart out of the room trying my hardest to suppress my tears.

There are no candles lit, and it takes me longer for me to spot her. When I do, the tears flow out of my eyes freely, and I start to sob. I can't help it, and have to look away to compose myself. When I look back at her, I can see guilt cross her features. She didn't want me to hear her screams, and I'm sure it's now apparent that I did.

I take a deep breath and take inventory on her injuries. She lies in a pool of her own blood and tears. Her face is almost unrecognizable beneath the bruises that cover it. I gasp as I take in the gash that runs from her temple to her chin on the right side of her face. I should not feel nauseous, as I've always wanted to be a healer, but I feel sick looking at my sister's broken and bloodied body and have to look away once again.

I look back once again, and she gives me a a small smile, which I understand is the best she can manage through what must be excruciating pain. The back of my throat tightens once again, and I silently chastise myself for being so emotional when Katniss has just endured pain that I cannot fathom.

"Are you okay, little duck? I'm fine, just need to walk it off..." She says in a voice that I cannot recognize. It's the voice of resignation, and I know that she's going to pass out soon. To be honest, I wish hat she'd already surrendered to unconsciousness, because at least she wouldn't be able to feel the pain. I sob louder, knowing that she only fought to stay awake so that she could comfort me when I came to find her. Only Katniss would be worried about me at a time like this. I try to collect myself. "Katniss, what happened?" I ask her desperately, trying to decide whom I would seek for help.

"What did you say? I'm sorry Prim, but all I can hear right now is ringing. I don't even know if what I'm saying makes sense." As soon as she's finished her sentence, I know something's wrong. Ringing is a sure sign that severe damage was done either to her eardrum, or to her head.

Inspecting her again, desperately trying to keep the contents or my stomach in, I take notice to her blood-soaked shirt. It's been rolled up to her rib cage and reveals cuts running down her abdomen. My heart stops as I spot the excessively-bleeding wound on her left side. It's a deep stab wound. By now, it's crucial that I have to get help, and I fly to the coat rack for my coat and my boots. My voice cracks as I tell her, "I'm going to get help, Katniss. You're not fine, you're bleeding profusely. I'm going to find someone, I promise," even though I know that she can't hear me.

As I slip through the door, I hear her call out a faint, "I love you."

I close the door before she can see me break down. "I love you t-too Katniss," I say.

Now is not the time to breakdown, though. Now is the time to contemplate my options on where to go. There's only one place to go, though. Before she died, my mother and another kind-hearted woman used to run the apothecary together, and she is the only other person in District 12 that would know how to help Katniss besides myself, and I'm too much of a nervous wreck to do anything. My mind is made up.

I make my way to the Mellarks.

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***A/N* **Hey guys! Just wanted to say thanks to those who have favorited or followed, and please... Continue! Haha, but seriously, please leave reviews!** If I get 3 MORE REVIEWS, I will update the chapter... TOMORROW! **So, if you review... it's a win-win situation! Well, thanks to those who have not/ don't want to give up on this story. _**I might re-write the first chapter, as I feel it's a little bland compared to this chapter, but I want your opinions first.**_Should I re-do it? Tell me your thoughts! Thanks!

~Burritoyum


	3. The Secrets Kept Untold

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own The Hunger Games... That title goes to none other than Suzanne Collins.**

**Note: **Hey guys! So, you reviewed... So here's the new chapter as promised! I really hope you enjoy it, and for the next chapter.. let's make it two reviews? maybe six for two chapters in one day? Up to you guys. But in all seriousness, I know I left you on a cliff-hanger, but it makes it much more intriguing, am I right? ;) Anyways, here you go! Please leave reviews!

~Burritoyum

* * *

_**Chapter Three:**__ The Secrets Kept Untold_

**~Mrs. (Aria) Mellark ~**

I wake up to the sound of knocking. Wiping my eyes, I sit up and inwardly groan. Who would be up at this hour? Don't they know that the bakery doesn'topen until the sun is up?

I glance over at my husband, wondering how he can sleep through such a ruckus. I slide my feet over the bed and cautiously pad down the hallway, trying my hardest not to wake up one of my boys as I pass their rooms. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I take notice that the knocking has yet to stop.

This must be a patient, then.

I quicken my steps and hastily open the door, finding little Prim with tears streaming down her face. The sight is heartbreaking, as I think of the Everdeen girls as my own, having been Lilly's best friend and business partner. My confusion is replaced with worry, seeing that Katniss isn't with her. Katniss barely ever lets Prim out of her sight.

"Prim! Come in, sweetie. What is it?" I ask her in a hushed voice.

"Aria, I need- I need you to get your medical sup-plies," she tells me urgently through hiccups. I start cooing her, trying to get her to calm down so that she can tell me what happened. "It's Kat-niss," she sobs, "She'sunconscious ! And oh, god, there was blood, Aria! So much blood," she cries out. While Prim hasn't told me very much about her and Katniss' lives, I've kept my eyes on them since Lilly passed. I haven't been oblivious to some of the bruising evident of Katniss' face from time to time, but Prim never has the closest thing to a scratch on her. I assume that Katniss' fiery temper has gotten her into fights with other kids.

Never would I have guessed the truth behind her bruises.

I blink and come out of my thoughts. Blood means I'll most likely need disinfectant, bandages, etc. My experienced healer's hands go to the things I'll need without so much as a second thought.

As we rush out the door, I breifly pray that Peeta didn't wake up and hear Prim's distressed voice. His love for Katniss is not unnoticed by his father and I; but I'm not sure this is something I want him to see, noticing how distraught Prim is. She runs as fast as she can to their small house, and I'm slightly confused.

Surely, if Katniss had gotten in a fight with another kid, it wouldn't have gone down in her house. Dread starts to grow in the pit of my stomach as I walk in. Something is not right, where's Travis? Shouldn't he be here as well if one of his daughters is unconscious and bleeding?

Prim reaches out blindly in the dark and searches for a match to light some candles. Her hands tremble so much that she's barely even able to pick up the box of homemade matches. I volunteer to light the candles myself, seeing that she's still sobbing.

I light my candle after hers, and ask her to show me where Katniss is. She unsteadily walks over to where their kitchen meets the living room, and stops as she stands next to a pile.

Puzzlement takes over me as I walk to her side. When I as I walk to her side. I analyze the pile, and hold it under the light of the candle. Blood is the first thing that I'm even able to identify. I gasp, _this can't be Katniss. This isn't Katniss, _I repeat over and over in my head. It isn't until I see a dark braid that I allow myself to acknowledge it. Tears silently roll down my face. _What the hell_ went on? Who did this to her?

"Prim..." I waver, " you _need_ to tell me what happened." When she starts to refuse, I add on, "I can only help her if I know how this happened."

I put two trembling fingers to her pulse point, and find that her heartbeat is faint and weak. At this discovery, I let out a choked sob. I don't have enough supplies for me to be able to help her here. We need to get her back to the bakery, so that I have all that I need. I'm desperate to save Katniss.

"Tell me right now, and fast," I demand frightened. She takes a shaking breath but tells me that she'll tell me when she tells my husband, because he'll want to know as well. Taking anything I'll get, I let out a defeated sigh and wipe my face free of tears. Now it's time for her to get Peeta's brothers... I can't let Peeta see Katniss like this, as I almost threw up myself. I haven't even looked back at her to see her injuries yet, which makes me feel far more than ashamed, but she's like my own daughter...

"Prim, I need you to get Peeta's brothers and my husband. Do _not_ wake Peeta, I don't want him to see her like this.. Tell them to bring the stretcher, and to hurry," I tell her. She can tell us what happened when Rye and Bannock get here, they'll need to know as well if they're helping us transport her.

I can only hope that by the time they get here it won't be too late.

**~Katniss~**

_All I feel is numbness and coldness. This is seriously some fucking creepy stuff. I'm _looking down_ at my unconscious body, and I can hear just about everything around me. This didn't happen last time, and I start feeling anxiety. Am I dying? Prim had just left for help, I don't want her to come back to a dead sister, it would crush her. She would blame herself, and I know it, because if I were in her position I would have done the same thing. I feel calm, yet panicked. I feel light, yet heavy. I suppose this is what happens in between death and life; you just go around in a half-way state. I'd rather be among the living if you ask me. _

_I'm not scared of dying in itself. In all truth, I've thought of how easily I would be able to escape this nightmare of a life. How peaceful it would be to slip away. Nobody but Prim would really notice, or care for that matter. Father would be grateful, but Prim would be- well, she'd be in hell. How ironic, I think, that I've lived in Hell since age eleven, yet five years later, I'm could potentially just chose to die or go back to my horrific life. If you were to ask me which one I'd chose, my automatic answer would be to live, though. I'm not about to chose based on my own selfish reasons. I want Prim to live, too, in more ways than one. Of course I want her to _survive_, but if I were to go, she'd just be a walking shell of the person she once was. That's not what I want, she's much too young for that. As for innocent? I'm sure my father robbed her of that the moment she was able to hear my screams. _

_I instantly feel guilty. I should have thought about the possibility of that, and tried to at least muffle them a bit. _

_I sigh, deciding that being left to your thoughts is not necessarily a good thing when your mental stability could be questioned. Not that thinking negatively would get me anywhere but deeper in the whole of depression I've apparently begun to wallow in._

_Suddenly curious, I wonder how much mischief I can get into in my current state. Can my hands even push anything over? I'm sure a devilish smile crosses my lips at this. I go to my dad's stash of liquor and try to hurl it across the room and into the wall. Having the luck that I do, my hand just passes through it. _Just great.

_Okay, so I can't pick objects up... Can I pass through them?_

_I head straight to the wall, and am ecstatic when I find I can. Hmm, what are the neighbors up to? Anybody up at this hour? _

_I pass through the wall and over the yard that separates our house from the one next to us. Everybody in the two houses to our left are asleep. I sigh, thinking that my fun is over. I head to our right, and into who I believe are the Hawthornes. _

_Mr. Hawthorne was a good man, used to be a good friend of my father's. Unfortunately, he died in the mine collapse that my mother died from. I've met the kids, and all seem fairly nice. Gale, I think is his name, is the eldest. He's maybe two years older than me. Rory is Prim's age, which I know because of her huge crush on him. And I know _that_ because she occasionally talks in her sleep._

_I pass into what I assume to be their mother's room. Mrs. Hawthorne is sleeping quietly in her bed. I've always liked Hazel. After her husband died, she didn't completely lose like mine did. She'd immediately gone back to work, even with little Posy due just a week later. She's a strong woman, and would never harm her kids. I have to say that I respect her immensely._

_I hear quiet whispering, and follow it. I pass into a small room that has one large bed, shared by Gale, Posy, Vick, and Rory. I'm surprised to find them all awake and with wide eyes. Little Posy is crying and Gale is trying to calm her, while Vick and Rory both have wide, fear-filled eyes. I listen in to their conversation. _

_"Gale," Rory says, " I don't hear her screams anymore... Do you think she's okay?"_

_"Gale?" Posy asks when he doesn't answer. I can see guilt in his expression. Why would he be guilty? Does he know that I've been taking beatings?_

_"I... I hope she is. Katniss is strong, you know. She hunts for her and Prim, I sometimes see her at the Hob when I'm trading in my game. Her mom died when dad did. She'll be fine," he says, but sounds like he's trying harder to convince himself than any of them._

_"You don't think that Prim..." Rory says with suddenly hard eyes. It seems that Gale notices the change in his brother's demeanor and calmly says, "No. I don't think that Katniss would have let him hurt her. I didn't hear any other screams besides hers... I've noticed the bruises at school, but I've never heard anything except for today. She must be strong to be quiet during them. Today, though... It must have..." he starts to say, but cuts himself off before his siblings won't know what he was going to say. But I know what he was going to say, he was going to say that it must have been beyond terrible, beyond horrifically painful._

_Deciding that this is too strange, having people take pity on me, I decide to get back. When I'm back, I see that Aria is with Prim. She looks like she's going to be sick, but I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose I'm just that messed up at the moment; enough to screw up a healer. She's telling Prim to get her husband and sons, but specifically says not to wake Peeta. I'm relieved by this, though I'm not yet ready to admit that just the thought of the blue-eyed boy makes my stomach do summersaults. I watch as Prim darts out the door and sprints to the Mellarks'._

_Aria does some simple things that cause me to blink rapidly and the numbness begins to flow away, resulting in excruciating pain. _

With another blink, my eyes open and I'm back with the living and facing her. The forgiving numbness is completely gone, and my whole body feels as though it's on fire. Even her feather-light pokes are unbearable. I groan before clamping my mouth shut to keep other pain-filled noises from escaping. I start gasping for air as the pain has fully registered within my head. And side. And everywhere else.

She startles when she hears my groan, and her eyes tear up. "Katniss? I'm here, your sister-" she starts gently. "Is getting your husband and Rye and Bannock. I know.." I said, still gasping for air so that I don't scream. She looks shocked, so I tell her that I'll explain later, and she nods. I grit my teeth, and look at her for a second before choking out, "Will you please cover your-_gasp-_ ears for a moment? I just-_gasp-_ I'm going to scream in a second. Okay?" I inform her, and she clamps her hands over her eyes before I take a deep breath and let out a blood-curdling scream that expresses all of my pain at the moment. I give her a slight nod to let her know that that's all I'll do, and let out a pained moan.

There's a noise at the door and all of a sudden, Gale rushes through the door looking around frantically. A moan slips past my lips without my permission, and he spots me lying bloody next to Aria. His face contorts for a moment, but he straightens it before coming over to me.

"Katniss? God..." he says, and I think I see a tear roll down his cheek, but he quickly wipes it away.

"I'm sorry-_gasp_- but you're Gale, right? I know it's pretty stupid that I don't know you very well, us being neighbors and all," I try to say, but the last part comes out as a pained moan.

"Yeah.." he says, clearly not able to talk as he inspects my wounds. I get it, I'm not normally a talker, but I'm afraid I'll scream again if I don't talk. I tell him this, and he just nods with understanding.

"Hey, Aria, when are they gonna get here? Sorry, but I just really want to assure Prim that I'm okay before passing out." I say to her, and she tells me that it may be five to ten minutes.

"Katniss, I need to turn you onto your stomach so that I can see if there's any harm done to your back. It's going to hurt. _A lot_. Don't feel guilty to scream, because I'm sure Gale won't mind considering what you've been through. My eyes widen with fear, but when Gale see the fear in my eyes, I mask them with determination and nod while clenching my jaw. She nods sadly.

"1... 2... 3..." She says and flips me onto my stomach. I let out an extremely loud groan, which turned into yet another tortured scream. My body trembles with pain as I lay. I hear an intake of breath from behind me, and I know that the others have entered the room seconds after my scream. "Prim?" I croak out. "Kat?" She cries out.

"God, Little Duck, I was worried about you..." I try chastising her, but I grunt in pain as Aria touches a particularly sensitive area of my back. Prim lets out a squeak of disapproving. "Katniss," she says in an unbelieving high pitched voice," Dad _tortured_ _you _and you're worried about me?" and with that she starts sobbing. "Well, I suppose the cat's out of the bag..." I sigh. "Listen," I say to everyone in the room though I'm not facing them. "As soon as we tell you what happened -_gasp- _tonight: One, you can't tell a soul. _Nobody._ And Two, does anybody want to play tic-tac-toe on my back? I'm sure there's enough lines for everybody," I attempt to joke, but end up chuckling by myself. Tiredly, I tell them, "I was just partially dead not twenty minutes ago, people, I can't see you at the moment, but- give me a second... But I think I deserve a bit of lenience on my terrible attempt at a joke, don't you?" I say, and hear Rye start to chuckle. "There we are. I don't want this to be some big deal and affect everyone's lives, okay? Now, I'm fairly sure that I'm going to pass out from pain any minute now, -_gasp- _which is probably good so that I don't split your eardrums when you lift me onto that stretcher. Prim and I will tell you all about this when I'm awake again. Now, the pain in pretty bad-_gasp-_ and I've been playing as much of it off as I could, but please plug your ears right now," I say through grit teeth, and then, once assured that everyone has covered their ears, I let out a scream that is probably the loudest yet. It betrays my 'I'm fine' attitude I'd acted out just a minute ago. I groan in pain a few more times before passing out once again.

* * *

When I regain consciousness again, I almost scream. There are five pairs of blue eyes staring at me. I blink a few times before hoarsely saying, "Are you guys trying to give me a heart attack?" Prim laughs and Rye and Bannock chuckle. Only Mrs. and Mr. Mellark have serious faces.

"Katniss, are you feeling any pain?" Aria asks me. To be honest, I feel like I'm being stabbed all over again, so I look her in the eyes to let her know that I'm hurting like crazy, but say in a light tone, "No, I'm fine. Barely feel anything."

I don't want to worry Prim.

Thankfully, Aria gets the hint, and turns to and says, "Pierce, would you take Prim to the guest bedroom? I think she could use some sleep after such a hectic night." He nods, understanding that we don't want Prim to know my pain, and takes Prim to their guest bedroom.

As soon as the door closes, I groan. My chest feels like it's under a ton of bricks, and my side burns intensively along with the side of my face. My back stings to the point of tears, but my head feels like somebody is beating it repeatedly.

I already know that I'll have to tell them everything.

"Okay, so I know that I'm going to have to tell you guys about what went on, but: Aria? Is there anything you can get me for how much this hurts? I feel like my stomach and arms are on fire, and my head and back are killing me, and I'm pretty sure that my wound on my side actually is..." I trails off into a moan and I squeeze my eyes and clench my jaw, which causes me to wince as the gash on my face is stretched painfully.

"No, I'm sorry, Katniss. I've done everything I can, but it's mostly for your back. The only wound that I'm completely familiar with treating was the cuts and your back. Whippings used to take place often before Darius and Cray became our Peacekeepers," I hear Aria tell me, but my eyes are still closed.

I just answer "Oh," through gritted teeth. I need to save my energy if I want to be able to tell my story conscious.

"Okay," I start saying," First thing's first, nobody can know about this besides you guys. I don't want Prim to be sent to the community home, she's too innocent for a horrid place like that... So nobody tells anybody else anything. Got it?" I say forcefully and see Rye, Bannock, and Aria nod solemnly. I take a deep breath. "So, the way I figure, what I tell you is going to make a lot more sense if I tell you from the beginning... Does that sound okay to you guys?" I ask them, and once again they all nod.

"I'm sure that you know that my mom died in that mine collapse. I'm sure that you didn't know that she wasn't supposed to be in the Seam at that time, she was supposed to be taking me and Prim to school. That day, I'd forgotten my lunch at home, and she said she'd run and get it for me, and to keep walking Prim to school so that we wouldn't be late. She- Well, on her way back, she passed the mines when the alarm went off. My father had been off to the side talking with the Peacekeepers so that they'd know which routes to go to try and find people in there. My mother didn't know that my father had made it out, so she ran in to find him. My father turned to look at the mines as he saw her blonde head disappear, and he called out to her," I have to stop, as I try and keep tears from flowing. I will not cry, not unless it's out of pain.. I clear my throat and out an impassive mask on. "He tried to run to her, but he was too far away. The mines collapsed as soon as he and my mother made eye contact, and she died... After that, my father was never the same. For the first few months, he was in a sort of catatonic state. He ignored everything around him. Eventually, our money supplied to us after my mother's death ran out, and Prim and I started to starve. I gave her all of my meals, but I wasn't able to stop her cheeks from hollowing, and that was a sight that crushed me. At eleven years old, I took on the responsibility and roles of two parents, and I started hunting," I don't tell them that their son saved mine and Prim's lives one rainy day.

"When I brought meat home for the first time, he slowly came back to us. He started eating with us, even talking from time to time. I was so hopeful that he would become our old dad... I was late home from school one day because of a project, and when I got home, he slapped me... I suppose that's when it started. In the past five years, it's gradually gotten worse. Prim's never been in danger except for a few times, because she looks like my mother. Any time he's in his moods, I send her away to her room just in case, and tell her to lock the door. Maybe two or three days ago, I got home later than usual because of a trade I'd made at the Hob. Father was pretty ticked off, which is how I ended up here two days ago. Well, that, and I've been giving my food to Prim... " And so I go on, telling them what happened last night in the best detail and shortest amount of time that I can.

Their faces had expressions that ranged from guilt to pity, amazement, and pride. They all leave the room in silence so that I can fall asleep, but I want to go back home before my father does. I call Mr. Mellark in and ask if I can get home, but he instantly refuses, telling me that I am in no shape to even sit up. I tell him that I need to get home before my dad, and that he can always send Aria to check up on me when my father's not home, and he reluctantly agrees to carry me there, knowing that Father would go ballistic if we weren't there when he was. He collects Prim and carries me home. I'm thankful that it's still early enough that most people are still asleep. I don't want anybody to see my weakened state. He gently lays me in my bed and I fall into a terror-filled sleep.

When I awaken, I desperately wish that my sister's blue orbs were another blonde hair, blue eyed boy's, for reasons I'm not sure of.

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**A/N:** Hey, everybody! I hope you like this chapter! Let us say... **3 reviews for another chapter.. let's go with 5 for a new chapter possibly today! ** Oh, and I'm not 100% crazy about this chapter, but tell me your feelings or thoughts on it... **_Should I re-do this chapter? Or Just continue on? _****Please tell me, *constructive* criticism is appreciated! Also, I will be updating my other story soon as well, so make sure to check that out! **_What do you think about the multiple POVs? _Leave a review! Thanks, and until the next update!

~Burritoyum


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